1989
by smileslikesunset
Summary: The course of their relationship summed up in one year. Style:Maya knew what happened to girls who kissed their best friends boyfriends. They ended up working late night shifts with pancake syrup on their arms and tobacco on their tongue, with their friends long gone and an ex boyfriend who left the moment they screwed up...she would not become one of those girls. Lucaya.
1. Welcome to New York

So I did not think I would ever write fanfiction again after middle school. I certainly did not think I would be writing it after watching a Disney Channel show with my little sister, but I am.

This is a collection of interconnected one-shots inspired by Taylor Swift's _1989_. Each chapter is based after her songs in the order they appear on her CD.

I do not own Girl Meets World or Taylor Swift's 1989_. _

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><p><em>Everybody here wanted something more<em>  
><em>Searching for a sound we hadn't heard before<em>  
><em>And it said<em>  
><em>Welcome to New York<em>

_(Taylor Swift, 1989)_

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><p>Lucas' first thought when he saw the glimmering lights of the city buildings from the window of the yellow cab that is driving him and his mom to their new apartment in New York City is that this place will never feel like home. It is not that he has never seen a city before. Austin, contrary to what his new friends believe, is actually one of the largest cities in the United States. True Lucas does not think any city in the world could ever prepare one for what The Big Apple is like, but it isn't because of a lack of cows and open fields that make this new place still feel like a foreign country a little more than three months later. Home, he has been instilled to believe since a young age, is where one's family is. Unfortunately for Lucas, he was not quite sure where that is anymore, but it certainly is not in New York.<p>

Ever since he was little Lucas' mom had been obsessed with New York City. He remembered finding her sitting on the couch late at night when he was supposed to be asleep. His dad had been on a business trip again. As Lucas grew up he would discover his dad went on a lot of business trips, but he was only four and so the absence of his father was rarely thought of. All kids daddies had to work; they all had to go on special trips every other week, right? Mrs. Friar had a scrapbook on her lap, her fingers gently touching the page as her eyes trailed over the pictures inside. She was wearing jeans and an old t-shirt, her lips bare of the chalky pink lipstick she always wore when his dad was home. She had looked up as Lucas descended the last squeaky step of their two-story home, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

He had been having a nightmare, and when he told his mother this she had patted the couch cushion beside her as he waddled over to her and allowed himself to be picked up and placed next to her. Mrs. Friar had pulled him close to her as she showed him the book in on her lap. She had pointed to pictures of bright lights and crowded streets. Post cards, sketches, decorative stickers, and the book had been her shrine to the city. Lucas allowed himself to be lulled to sleep by stories of a magical place where anyone could go and explore all of their wildest dreams. Lucas had asked his mom just as he closed his eyes why everyone did not go to New York City if it was so amazing. He remembered his mothers sad smile and the softness of her voice as his breathing became heavy.

"Not everyone has the courage," she had said with a kiss to his temple. Next thing Lucas knew, it was morning. His father was home. His mother was in the kitchen in one of her dresses, and though Lucas asked continuously where the book about the mystical New York had gone, Mrs. Friar could not seem to remember ever having it. On his father's next business trip his mother explained to him that New York was Lucas and her little secret reserved only for the times Mr. Friar was gone like her jeans and rock music. At age four Lucas knew the importance of secrets so he never mentioned the city around his father again, and as time went on he began to forget about the bright lights, tall buildings, and myriad of dreamers that was New York. Instead, his enchantment lied in the only place he had ever lived: Texas.

Texas had been the place of cooked meals and church Sundays. Of football games in front of the TV. Of first bike rides and forced friendships with the annoying neighbor kids, and of amazing friendships between the two other kids who had shown up to Basketball day in San Antonio Spurs jerseys. Texas was the place with father's crooked grin as he ruffled Lucas' hair in the morning to say hello, and his mother's gentle touch on his cheek as she patted his face to tell him how proud she was of him, and his parent's good-bye kisses as Mr. Friar left for work. Or at least it had until he had found his mother with a Texas size bruise on the side of her cheek the week after his twelfth birthday.

Mrs. Friar had been shocked to see her son in front of her. Lucas had been shocked to see his mother sleeping in the bathtub, a bit of blood on the cool, white tile and the jeans she only wore whenever Mr. Friar was on business draped across the toilet with rips on the sides. Something changed in her eyes as her son ran to her side. Only minutes later she had grabbed a pair of her husband's pants, wrapped a torn piece of fabric from one of her dresses as a belt, and left the house with nothing but her son and her scrapbook. A few weeks later, the two were on their way to the city that had only been reserved for dreams.

But New York was no longer the place of secret whispers and fanciful imaginings. It was now a reminder that his mother had been desperate to run away, and that Lucas' father had been the man she had been trying to run away from. But no matter how many weekends Lucas went back to Texas and called it his home, he could not quite believe himself. That still did not give his father the right to say he couldn't go.

Lucas lay on his back on the roof of his apartment building, hands resting behind his head as he tried to make out the stars against the night sky. It was much harder to stargaze in a city like New York, but not impossible with a little bit of effort. The middle school boy did not really care. He just needed a distraction. The week had proven to be a trying one, and at this moment not thinking was the best kind of thinking there was to do.

It was the stupid elections. He had not planned on running for the student council, but then Riley had nominated him and his friends had dubbed him "the moral compass." He had to participate, because he was the golden boy and that was what everyone expected of him. That was where he fit in. There was the boy-genius, Farkle. The lovable dork, Riley. And then there was the troublemaker…

"Sup, Sundance."

Maya.

Standing above him with her blonde curls falling over her ears like streamers and hand on her hips, the middle school girl is now the only thing in his line of vision. She has her hands on her hips, blue eyes glinting in the mischievous way that never quite disappeared even when she wasn't doing something dastardly. She is the last person he would have thought to see on his roof, and right now she is also the last person he wants to see. So maybe the last person he wants to see at this moment is his father, but that had been the case since he first moved to New York.

The blonde was the first person who had been able to distract his thoughts from his problems with his family. He had been sitting on the subway reading a book when she had come to, her wicked grin wide and that same glint shining behind her aqua gaze. At first he had simply been surprised. The girl was very pretty, and though he had been approached by girls his age before it had never been done so boldly. She had introduced herself as Maya, and before he had time to respond she had continued speaking, apparently dating and breaking up with him in a matter of seconds.

Technically she had made herself his first girlfriend, and his ex-girlfriend. But that was hardly what had distracted him. It had been her confidence, her spontaneous flare as she asserted her presence. And later that day as he made his way to his new school she had done what he had thought was impossible. She had made him laugh.

He should be mad at her. After all, hadn't she recorded his phone conversation with his father? Wasn't she going to ruin his chances at becoming president of their 7th grade class? The answer was yes, but despite this Lucas could not quite find it in himself to be mad at her.

"What are you doing here?" he asked as she plopped down on the ground beside him. He supported himself on his elbows so he matched the blonde New Yorker. His brows were furrowed. He was not quite sure if this was real or if he had somehow fallen asleep in the time he had been outside. She looked real enough, but the Texas boy was unsure why Maya would be at his apartment building when she lived on the opposite side of the city. Maya on the other hand did not even bother to look at him as she clicked her boots together and stared up at the sky.

"Your mom told me where you would be," she said with a slight shrug. Lucas almost rolled his eyes. His mother loved Maya. Ever since his blonde classmate had come over for dinner to help work on their muffin business project. It was amusing to see Maya's face when his mom had taken her into her arms for a hug the moment the small blonde had walked through the door.

Lucas continued to watch her for a moment as she looked up at the sky. He wondered what she was thinking about; he always wondered what she was thinking. Lucas was good at reading people, but not Maya. She was just as an enigma to him as the day she walked up to him on the subway.

She seemed to sense him staring at her because Maya turned her head so her chin rested on her shoulder, raising her thick brows at him. She then continued to surprise him with her next question. Though he supposed he shouldn't be surprised with anything when it came to Maya, her presence next to him alone was proof of that. "So what's it going to be, cowboy?"

Lucas couldn't help it. He laughed. "What?"

Maya shook her head. "Alright, I know there probably isn't a lot of thinking involved in the hay barn but try and keep up, Ranger Rick." She said, her voice taking on the faux-southern drawl it did when she was making fun of him. "I mean. What do you want me to do about the recording?"

Oh, the recording. Lucas had almost forgotten that was the reason he was supposed to be mad at her. The remainder of his conversation with his father, the one that had caused him to go outside into the first place, instantly darkened his mood.

"Aren't you going to use it to ruin my chances like you did Farkle's?" he said, his voice taking on a venomous tone uncharacteristic of the native Texan.

Next to him Maya let out a snort, looking at him as if she could not believe how stupid he was being-which really wasn't too different than how she usually looked at him, now that he thought about it. Somehow it did not come off mean, just amused.

"You and I both know you don't really want to be class President. You're doing it because of Riley and Farkle," she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. He raised a brow at her, and she raised one right back as if to silently ask _Am I wrong?_ Lucas remained silent. Was he really that transparent? Somehow, he knew that it wasn't his lack of acting skills, but the blonde's ability to read people. He suspected Maya grew up in the kind of household where one had to be observant like he did; like he failed to do.

"So," Maya said with a slight popping sound on the 'o', "I can play the recording and you could lose the election or I can listen to Riles and step aside so you can win the position your moral compass title expects of you." She let out a long sigh as she fell on her back, blonde tendrils fanning out behind her as she lay on his roof just as Lucas had been doing before her arrival. "What's it going to be, Sundance?"

Lucas watched her with his mouth open, processing what she was saying. Since his parent's separation, the golden boy had always been on the look for a way out, a way out of conversation, a way out of obligations. He was always looking for a way that he could do just what he was doing now, too sit on the roof and be allowed to forgo all thoughts and worries and just be. Maya Hart was offering him that, but for some reason he was hesitant to take it.

"You think I would be a bad class president," he said, not able to entirely keep his accusing tone from seeping through the cracks of his words. He did not know why this statement hurt him. Out of all the people he felt like he needed to impress, Maya Hart should not have been at the top of his list. He doubted Maya expected him to be some great leader, but he could not help but feel as if he had disappointed her in some way. Maya did not miss a beat in answering him.

"Of course not," she said with the same obvious tone she had used earlier. She looked completely at ease as she stared up at the night sky, as if her conversation with him was an afterthought while she took in all the wonders a seemingly starless New York sky could offer. "Out of all the candidates you are to best choice."

Lucas furrowed his brows. It was in that moment he decided he would never meet a girl more confusing than Maya Hart.

"What about, Riley?" he said trying to not sound like a complete idiot to his short friend, but failing to understand what she was thinking.

"Riley could be a good leader, and she will be with time," Maya breathed still staring at the sky. " There is no doubt about that, but she is also still naive. She wants to be a princess, but to be a leader you have to accept being queen." She paused again, and Lucas couldn't tell what she was thinking as her sea-blue eyes seemed to become lost in thought. "She isn't ready for that, not yet. You on the other hand are."

Lucas took in the girl's words, understanding and not understanding everything she was saying. He wanted to dig deeper, ask why she thought he was ready to be a leadership when her best friend wasn't. But he didn't, instead he lowered himself back down onto his back, aware that her hair was touching his ear as he let out, "Okay."

They were quiet again, Maya seeming to understand what his answer meant even if Lucas still did not. He stared at the sky, tracing the outlines of possible stars and imagining what it would be like to see them shine on a dark, city night. Maya was there, he could not picture the scenario without her even though just moments ago he had been alone. She completed his version of escape; she was still acting as his way out.

"You know you don't have to keep going back to Texas," Maya said after a few minutes, her voice so quiet that Lucas was surprised he heard it. "You have a home in here too." Lucas blinked and kept looking at the sky.

"New York isn't my home, but neither is Texas" he said slowly, the words coming off of him like a weight he had not known he was carrying. " Home is where your family is. My family isn't a family anymore."

Maya let of a low hmmm, her lips pressed together, the corner of her lip quirking upward in a way that masked as a smile but actually meant something else. "Funny. If that was the case I would have been homeless for a long time."

Not for the first time, Lucas felt like a complete idiot. If anyone knew bad home life it was Maya. Sometimes she did such a good job putting herself back together he forgot that she was still broken. He was about to open his mouth and apologize for his insensitivity and ability to be a total ass, but she continued before he could let the words out.

"Home can be family, but it can also be other things," Maya said her eyes taking on that same faraway look that Lucas could not see past. "When you have half a mom and no dad home is where your friends are." She turned on her side, looking at him once more. "You have that in Texas, and you have that here in New York. You, Lucas Friar, have two homes."

With that, the blonde got up, brushing the dirt off of her jeans, before heading to the door. Lucas watched her go, not realizing a smile was forming on his lips as he watched her curls bounce behind her with each step. Just as she began to turn the knob, he called out.

"Does this mean that we're friends, Maya Hart?" he asked, using her full name as she had used his. It would only be when he was back inside that he would realize that was the first time she ever called him Lucas and not one of her nicknames. Maya gave him one of her smiles, this one less of a mask.

"Welcome to New York, cowboy," she said tipping an imaginary hat his way before turning back around with a whip of her blonde hair and heading down the stairs.

Lucas stared at where she had been long after she was gone. After a few minutes, he looked back up at the sky. Maybe he didn't need a way out. He might just need to accept that he was lucky enough to find a way in. Which is why the next day when Riley was returning the horse back to it's proper place, he put his new I Heart New York cap on his head and tipped it at his blonde friend. "Thanks, Maya."

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><p>There you have the first chapter! Updates will be spontaneous but hopefully frequent. I would love it if you left me a review and let me know what you thought. Thank you for reading!<p> 


	2. Blank Space

**A/N: **Here is the next installment of _1989_. First I would like to start by saying I am so grateful to everyone who has taken the time to follow, review, and favorite this story. It never fails to bring a smile to my face to receive your feedback. Second, I would also like to put out there I am thinking about adopting a beta reader as I have very little time to write let alone thoroughly edit my work. If you are interested shoot me a pm! I would love to hear from you.

This chapter was a lot harder to write than the other one because this is one of the songs I found the most difficult to relate to Lucas and Maya's relationship. At first I was struggling to write even a thousand words, but then inspiration struck and I ended up with an almost 5,000 word document. I hope you guys enjoy it!

I do not own GMW or Taylor Swift's 1989.

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><p><em>Got a long list of ex-lovers<em>  
><em>They'll tell you I'm insane<em>  
><em>But I got a blank space baby<em>  
><em>And I'll write your name<em>

_(Taylor Swift, 1989)_

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><p>This week his name was Cameron.<p>

As far as Lucas was concerned he had no last name. He was a ninth grader. He played the drums in the school marching band and was a skateboarder. He had brown hair, was 5'9, and had the cutest dimples in all of New York.

Or at least, that is what Riley had told him.

He and his girlfriend had been having Saturday movie night in her house, sitting on the sofa and watching a chick flick he couldn't remember the name of but made Riley grin from ear to ear whenever she had since they had arranged the date. Lucas had put his arm around her shoulder even though there was still the required six inches between their thighs-Mr. Matthews had checked before retreating into his and his wife's bedroom, his head popping in the doorframe view every fifteen minutes or so to make sure no one had moved while his head was turned. Apparently, Riley was getting as bored as he was watching one woman try on 27 dresses because half way into the movie she had started talking. She talked about school, her go-to topic since it was really the only thing the two of them had in common, which lead her to talk about Maya, the other thing they had in common. Lucas never minded. Riley being Riley never had anything bad to say about their mutual friend, and he would much rather learn about Maya's life than Farkle's (there were some things you just did not need to know about the kid who was still trying to create a nation named after himself).

There was not much Riley told him that he did not already know. Maya was working hard on her new art piece even though she tried to shrug off the competition Ms. Kossol kept saying she should enter (she had forced Lucas to sit in front of her while she painted. He thought she was trying to paint him, turns out she just wanted somebody to talk to while she worked). She had managed to get an 'A' on her history project (she had done most of the work at his house; she said his mom's cookies were the best study snacks). Her mom was still working late nights at the diner (which was why he still came to visit her apartment after football practice despite her insistence that she was okay by herself). And, Maya had gotten a new boyfriend.

He had not known about that one. But then again, he could have probably guessed that for himself.

Ever since the beginnings of eighth grade it seemed Maya was walking down the hall with some guys Lucas had never seen. A lot of the time they were older; high school dropouts who walked the line of serious devotion and serious hormones. Maya began adding a new reputation to that of her already established cool and rebellious cred. Their classmates began whispering words as the blonde sashayed by, seemingly above their talk even though she was still shorter than most of her peers. Those words disappeared really fast after Lucas heard them. But even though they were no longer said out loud for fear of the school's star athlete, it still did not stop anyone from thinking them.

The first time a tall guy in ripped jeans and a smirk a little too crooked to be trusted showed up by Maya's locker to pick her up from school, despite the fact he was a tenth grader and the high school ended thirty minutes after their middle school. He had been standing beside the girl, planning on walking to the subway with her as they had ever since Riley had joined the cheerleading squad as a reserve (truth was they were reserving her to bring them water and lipgloss, but the brunette didn't care) and had to stay for practices. Maya did not like walking alone and Lucas liked spending time with Maya, so the arrangement worked out well. They had been friends before he had started dating Riley, so it was natural to want to keep up that relationship. Just like it was natural for him to feel...er…_protective_ of the short blonde girl when he saw the obviously older, no-good boy come up to her.

"_Can we help you?" Lucas had said, not liking the look the guy was giving his friend as he approached them. The boy smelled of smoke and gasoline and had a swagger in his step that couldn't be anything but bad news. The kids left in the hallway to grab their bags and books before heading home had all turned their gaze in the groups direction. There was a mix of curiosity and surprise at the high schooler's presence on everybody's face. Everyone except Maya._

_The boy for his part was cool as a cucumber despite all of the attention and gave a snort that made Lucas want to punch the guy in the face, and when him talking did nothing to help the situation. "Chill, kid, I am just here to pick up my girlfriend."_

_Before Lucas could try and redeem the little bit of his pride that had been chipped away at being referred to as "kid" and tell the jerk that he should go and do that then, the high schooler had put his arm around Maya. Like waiting for the part of a horror film where the audience waited for the masked killer to jump out of the closet, Lucas waited for Maya to elbow the guy in the neck. He thought at any moment the guy would be on the floor, clutching at his crotch after receiving a carefully aimed kick, and that he and Maya would be on their way._

_They would head to the subway and she would discreetly mask inviting him to hang over at her place within an insult, and he insist on getting ice cream at their favorite ice cream shop; Maya would be too stubborn to get any or let him buy her anything so he would get a large scoop of mint chocolate chip (her favorite) and have her finish it after saying he was full. Then they would sit on her couch and watch action movies while Grammy Hart snored in her recliner and Lucas would go home just before dark grinning as he always did after a movie session with his friend._

_But then Maya didn't remove herself from the older boy's grip. Instead she stood their with an impassive smile and shut her locker door, seemingly unaware that every second she acted like it was acceptable for this stranger to be touching her in public, in private, in anywhere, made Lucas' heart beat faster and faster. She gave him a small wave._

"_I'll see you tomorrow cowboy," and then she walked away with the whole school watching as she went, and Lucas' eyes following the pair long after._

He shouldn't have been hurt. It wasn't even the fact that she had a boyfriend that upset him, though that bit of information didn't exactly make him feel warm and fuzzy- he was dating her best friend, he had no right to be jealous...right? What bothered him was that Maya hadn't bothered to tell him that she was seeing somebody.

Farkle hadn't known. Riley hadn't known (he got to hear about that one for a long time). Both had known Maya much longer than Lucas had. He couldn't expect her to tell him she had a boyfriend when she hadn't told anyone else, but he had hoped he was close enough to her where she would.

Lucas had spent his solitary subway ride fully convinced that nothing between him and Maya would ever be the same. She would be too busy with her boyfriend to spend time eating ice cream and re-watching 80's action films with him; she now had a boyfriend to do those things with, a revelation that made him feel both sad and angry at the same time. But it turns out he shouldn't have worried as much as he did. Two days later after inquiring where her new "friend" (Lucas couldn't quite make out the word _boyfriend_; it still gave him trouble) Maya casually said they had broke up without missing a beat. The news had caused Lucas to grin for the rest of the week.

That is until Maya's next boyfriend. And the one after that, and the one after that.

There soon became a new element to their friendship. It really wasn't that different. The two still hung out at least twice a week just as they had before, but now Lucas knew that when Maya wasn't hanging out with him she was more than likely hanging out with her newest boyfriend. It was better than her leaving him entirely, and really it was like nothing had changed. Maya still acted like Maya. She didn't start talking about love or her feelings. She still called him a wimp when he cringed at the blood scenes and licked her ice cream in a circular motion despite his teasing. Still, it was different.

Riley didn't seem to have a problem with Maya dating so many people. Forever the optimist, his girlfriend believed that Maya would meet the right guy eventually. She just might have to kiss a few frogs before finding her prince (an image that haunted Lucas long after their conversation). In fact the only one who seemed to have as much a problem with Mayas collection of boyfriends was Farkle.

"_I don't like him."_

_Farkle popped up in front of Lucas' locker, his forehead wrinkled like a pug's face as he stared not-so-subtly across the hall at Maya and a tall, tan-skinned boy with shiny black hair. Lucas knew him from the baseball team. Tommy Morse or "Thomas" as he had heard Maya call him with an un-Maya-like giggle that managed to make Lucas both uncomfortable and mad at the same time. His teammate had arrived with Maya the morning to ride the subway with them and every free period they had they were glued at the hip, laughing and whispering with one another._

_Lucas started to nod his head along with the boy genius before realizing that he had been staring at the couple for the last three minutes when he should have been reviewing his English notes-rumor was they had a pop quiz during 5th period and Riley had purposefully gone to her next class to give him some time to study. He blinked, turning back to his locker and turning his attention to the spine of his history book._

"_You say that about all of Maya's boyfriends," Lucas said into his locker. Farkle's gaze did not waver from the blonde girl._

"_Yeah, because I don't like any of Maya's boyfriends," Farkle said with no shame in his voice. Lucas gave a slightly amused roll of the eyes in the direction of his little friend. Ever since Lucas had starting one of Farkle's two true loves, the Minkus boy had devoted all of his feelings towards Maya. For some reason his friend's flirtation was more annoying when solely directed at their blonde, but Lucas would be lying if he said he did not prefer Farkle confessing his love for Maya than the myriad of boys that she seemed to shuffle through. Farkle was able to tear his gaze away for a moment to catch Lucas' expression and crossed his arms over his chest. Unfortunately, since the boy had yet to hit his growth spurt, the annoyed look he was giving was much less intimidating and more humorous, but Lucas was not in the mood for laughing._

"_Don't act like you don't agree with me," Farkle said with a scoff. "I saw you staring at Tommy in History like he had just kicked a puppy."_

_Behind him, Lucas could hear Maya laughing at something the boy next to her had said and slammed his locker shut, making a sixth grader walking past jump and let out a surprised squeak. The older boy turned to apologize, but apparently the look on his face frightened the younger student even further and they scurried off with their head down. Farkle raised a brow at him._

"_What?" Lucas asked, his voice coming out more defensive than he would have liked to admit. He threw a glance back over at Maya and her boyfriend just in time to see Tommy Morse lean down to give the girl a kiss on the cheek just as Maya turned her head so he got her lips instead. The look on the girl's face when the couple parted made it clear that her sudden movement hadn't been an accident, and the breath taken, enamored look on his teammates face he did not mind one bit. Lucas minded. Lucas minded a lot. The bell rang and Lucas looked down to see his hand had formed into a fist by his side. Farkle took notice and gave him a look that said I told you so._

"_Ah, Shut up," Lucas said before walking gloomily to class._

But Farkle had every right to not like Maya's boyfriends. The boy had been in love with her since kindergarten. Lucas on the other hand, as Farkle liked to remind him, had no right. He was Maya's friend who also was happily dating the girl's best friend. Who was right next to him, six small inches away with a beautiful smile on her face that would usually make him feel warm and fuzzy inside but because she was talking about Maya only made him feel strangely hollow.

Riley spent ten minutes going on and on about how she really thought Maya liked this one and how she was sure that her best friend had finally found love (Lucas did not tell her that their was no rush for the blonde to find love since they were still only in the 8th grade. That could lead to questions from his girlfriend he wasn't sure he wanted to answer). She talked about how this time it could be serious, how Maya and Cameron could go on double dates with them and Cameron and him could become best friends and everything would be just great. This is what she had said about last five boyfriends, but Lucas did not have the heart to point this out. Instead he sat six inches away from his girlfriend and nodded with a smile that did not quite meet his eyes and kept him self from screaming into a pillow.

Maya let out a long sigh as she fell onto her bed, her blonde hair fanning out behind her. Even from behind the walls of her room, she could still hear the slamming of the front door to her apartment that high school bad-boy Dallas had slammed shut after Maya telling him it was time to leave. She counted her breaths as she stared at her pale, uncovered legs peeking from underneath the oversized t-shirt that was the only thing to cover her petite frame. Her hair was tangled, eyeliner smudged, and the lipstick she had stolen from her mother's drawer to put on just before the boy had arrived was smeared down to her chin. But Maya couldn't tell. To see her disheveled appearance she would have had to look in a mirror something she couldn't bring herself to do until twelve after the newest guy walked out of the door, when sleep helped refill her pride and cloud her mistakes.

But for now the blonde was wide awake, her blue eyes staring at the ceiling as she listened to the sound of her breathing, long and low. Her body was sore, but only because Dallas had a tight grip, one that wouldn't quite let go the first time she had told him to stop. She always pulled away at the last second, just as she would glimpse a pair of pants be thrown on the floor to lie beside her own. She would draw back, putting her small hand on his chest with enough force behind it to stop a moving truck even though she wasn't physically very strong. The boy would protest, but she would stare straight past his eyes and say "I think you should go," in a voice lacking the emotion she had just been imitating, like a child playing dress-up in her mother's clothes. Then he would be gone, and she wouldn't see him again until she brought the next guy into her room.

After a few moments of solitude, Maya rolled onto her side towards the edge of the bed just close enough where she could grab a blank notecard and a pen from her bedside table. Rolling back onto her back and pulling up her knees in as a substitute table to rest the paper on, she scribbled six small letters on the center. When she was done, she ran her thumb over them, tracing the lines as if her finger was riding a rollercoaster. Up and down she started at the "d" she couldn't bring herself to capitalize and flicked her finger off the page like miming a check mark after tracing the "s." Then, without hesitating, she crumpled up the notecard and threw it in a basket two feet away from the edge of her bed where it joined a small collection of other crumpled note cards that were continuously growing.

It had become a ritual of hers, an art project of sorts. It had started after breaking up with the first guy she had started dating. Granted, unlike her friends she never called the boy she chose to spend time with outside of school her boyfriends (though she had been referred to as a girlfriend more than a handful of times) nor did she really consider the time they spent together as dates. But the first time a boy slammed her front door shut she had felt nothing. There was no sadness or anger or loss, even though she knew she would not be seeing him again. She felt nothing, as if she had only vaguely knew him like a character on television she had humored before changing the channel. So she wrote his name down, tracing the lines of the letters so it was harder to forget, before crumpling it up and tossing it away. She had wrote down too many names it seemed, and could only account a small number before they disappeared from her mind completely. But there was one name that no matter how hard she tried she could not forget even though it was the name she had wrote first, the one that she sometimes pulled out and traced before carefully placing it back underneath her mattress where it burned a hole into her mind while she slept. And even though she kept pulling it and rereading the name over and over again, she could not bring herself to toss it away.

She hated herself for not being able to toss it away.

So instead, she wrote more names. She wrote long name and short names. Names of places and names the creation of women who thought they were being clever. She wrote nicknames, and names she knew she wasn't spelling right but didn't care enough to ask their proper diction. But no name replaced the one under her bed. No name grabbed her attention long enough to be more than a crumpled memory at the bottom of a waste-bin.

Maya closed her eyes, not tired enough to sleep but not in the right mind to allow her self time to think. So she lay back down and continued to listen to her breaths, their sound the only lullaby she had grown up with and the only one she had ever needed, until a knocking sound coming from her window caused her breath to hitch and an exasperated sigh to leave her lips.

She waited a moment, preparing herself to see the face of Dallas, or the boy from the week before, or the boy from the time before that, knocking at her window, bored and out of options. She would tell him she was no longer interested, or simply pull down the blinds, and he would be too lazy to knock again and she could go back to listening to the sound of her breaths. But as her azure gaze flickered over to the window, she paused to take in the image of not a blurred, forgotten face, but that of the one she had been trying not to remember.

Lucas.

Her friend.

Her best friends boyfriend.

A name on an otherwise blank page.

Maya forced the blush that was threatening to creep up her neck back down, her gaze impassive as she got up to let him inside. On her way she grabbed a sweatshirt from the floor and pulled it over her head, painfully aware she was only in an oversized shirt that did not cover nearly enough skin to be in the presence of another girl's boyfriend. She opened the window and stepped back, her brows knitting slightly together as she asked. "'sup cowboy?" It was late out, much later than their usually movie nights, and Maya also happened to know that Saturday's were reserved for a certain brunette with a kind smile and even kinder heart.

She sat on the edge of her bed, arms crossed over her chest as he climbed into her room. He had a half smile on his face, lips quirked upwards but pressed tightly together as he stared long and hard at her face. Maya was tempted to glance over her shoulder into the mirror to see what he was looking at, but couldn't bring herself to. Instead, she raised her chin in defiance, not letting anything show past her blue eyes gaze.

Lucas opened his mouth once, and then closed it, hands in his jean pocket. He continued to stare at her, but Maya would not let her self move even though his presence made her want to shift her weight uncomfortably and avoid his gaze. Instead, she stared right back at him and raised a brow. After a moment, Lucas finally found his voice.

"I just wanted to see how you were doing," he said his voice a little too casual. His gaze wandered around her room, stopping at a boy's leather jacket that had been left by a visitor a few weeks previous. His smile dipped slightly as he turned back to her and asked, green eyes inquiring. "How are you doing?"

"Fine," Maya said, her voice sharper than she had intended and matched his tight lipped smile. She didn't want him to see her like this; she didn't want _anybody_ to see her like this. They would get the wrong impression, even though she had never really done what it looked like she had been doing. Cocking her head to the side she asked, "Is that it?"

Lucas started to nod, and Maya watched him stand in her room. He had been in her room before, a few times actually-he liked to play with Ginger, but never had it felt so uncomfortable for him to be there. Maybe it was the fact that most of her clothing was thrown on the ground, or that she knew that not less than an hour ago he had been in the company of her best friend, probably sneaking kisses while Mr. Matthews' back was turned. Lucas looked just like he was going to turn around and leave back out her window when something changed in his face and he stopped, his gaze suddenly matching the determined flair in Maya's own. "Why have you been dating so many guys?"

The question felt like a slap in the face. Riley and Farkle had both asked her the question before, but for some reason when _he_ asked it came like a shock. For a long time she had deluded herself into believing that Lucas had not noticed her new, ever-changing company. He always seemed to ignore it, and she had been grateful for that. Him pointing it out now made her feel dirty the same way looking into the mirror did. Still, Maya did not lower her head.

"It's called testing the waters, Sundance," she said her voice border lining joking and condescending. She looked right past his eyes, trying to keep the flecks of green out of her peripheral vision. "Not everyone is lucky enough to meet their soul mate in the seventh grade."

Lucas's tight lipped expression dipped even further until it was a frown, but he shook it away as quickly as it came and reflected her own expression; guarded and impassive. Maya decided she did not like that look on him very much.

"Alright," he started as if giving her that. Then he crossed his arms over his own chest so his position almost exactly mirrored that of the blonde across from him. "But why go so fast? Why not stick around."

Maya flared her nostrils, annoyed under the light of his judgment. She wanted to tell him that she had enough people judging her and did not need his input. But instead she said, feeling the sting as the words left her tongue, "Some people aren't just worth staying for, okay?"

She got up, suddenly not caring that her legs were exposed, and angrily started grabbing the discarded clothes off the floor and throwing them in the hamper. Moving quickly, she accidently knocked over her waste-bin full of crumpled names, but she was too agitated to care. She refused to look at Lucas, knowing that if she ignored him for a few more minutes he would leave on his own, because that was what people did; they left.

But when she looked back up from her cleaned floor Lucas hadn't left. Instead his features had softened, and the guarded look had been replaced with one of hurt that somehow made her feel more vulnerable than she had all night.

"Is that what you think?" he asked, his voice rising slightly in a tone of disbelief. "That you aren't worth sticking around for?"

"Well it is kind of obvious, isn't it?" Maya returned sharply. "I'm the girl with no dad and half a mom, remember? What makes guys any different?" And she was about to leave, walk out of her room and go somewhere, _anywhere _to get out of the conversation when she felt a hand grab her wrist and turn her around. She was about to yell, protest that he had no right to touch her when Lucas grabbed her other hand and forced her to look him in the eyes.

"Listen to me, Maya Hart," he said his voice commanding and imploring Maya not to look away. Her breathing was too fast, no longer a mellow lullaby as he stressed each of his next words. "You are worth sticking around for. Anyone who says or does otherwise is a fucking idiot. You understand?"

Maya watched him, knowing he truly believed what he was saying. Only Riley had ever expressed so much faith in her, made her feel like she was valuable. But this wasn't Riley. This wasn't the girl who had known her since they were little and who seemed to only be able to see the good in everyone. This was Lucas, the boy who had only known her for a year, and the boy she could never quite hide her true self from no matter how hard she tried. Lucas, who thought she was worth sticking around for.

She was silent, and so he repeated it again. "You understand?"

Maya nodded dumbly. They stood there for a few more moments before Lucas gently let go of her hands and nodded back, shoving his hands back into his jean pockets.

"Good," he said, suddenly looking away. He glanced back at her one more time before heading back towards the window. He opened it back up, turning in her direction just as he headed back outside. "I'll see you tomorrow." And then he shut it and was gone.

Maya plopped back down on the edge of her bed, her breathing still too heavy. She stared at the window for far too long, words swimming through her thoughts like minnows in a pond.

_You are worth sticking around for._

She lay back on her back, pulling out a piece of paper from under her mattress before she did so and tracing the five letters with her finger. This time when she reached the final "s" she stared at it, before tucking it safely back in its hiding place. And as she slept one name continued to stick with her, just as it always had and always deserved.

_Lucas._

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><p>Thanks so much for reading and if you enjoyed don't forget to leave a review!<p> 


	3. Style

**A/N: **This chapter came out way longer than planned. I am not sure what I think of this one. There are some parts I adore and some parts that I read over and think could use work but I am not quite sure how to fix. I haven't written anything romantic in, well, ever so please keep that in mind as you get to the ending.

Once again I just want to thank everyone who reviewed, followed, and favorited this story. Your support for this story means the world to me. :)

A quick warning that this is probably going to be the last quick update as I start the semester next week and am going to need some time to readjust from being lazy and free to do whatever I want to having deadlines and a schedule I have to follow. I will try to keep up with this story, but updates might be looking more like once a month than once a week.

Also I will probably go back and do some editing to the chapters already posted since they have only gone through minimal revisions before posting. If you are interesting in helping out with any editing shoot me a pm!

I do not own GMW or Taylor Swift's _1989_.

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><p><em>You got that James Dean day dream look in your eye<em>  
><em>And I got that red lip classic thing that you like<em>  
><em>And when we go crashing down, we come back every time.<em>  
><em>Cause we never go out of style<em>  
><em>We never go out of style<em>

_(Taylor Swift, 1989)_

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><p>It was the homecoming dance, their first dance as high school students. The gym that Lucas had run laps around on many a rainy day since joining the school football team had been decorated with hand-made posters and decorations in a desperate attempt to distract from the of school bleachers and taped floors. The boys clung to the walls like monkeys to the bars of a cage, only prying themselves off because of the tugging hands of giddy girlfriends. On the dance floor couples danced with an awkwardness that had not quite left them since middle school, and groups of girls circled in packs their heavily eyed lines scanning their surroundings for a victim to dance with. Lucas was at the center of it all, hands on the waste of his girlfriend, and trying very hard to fight the frown that was tugging downwards on the corner's of his mouth.<p>

He hadn't wanted to come to the dance. He had told Maya that every time she had come up to him with a determined look in her cerulean eyes that eventually forced him to comply. She had bugged him since he had told her he was planning to spend the homecoming evening at home catching up on some homework he had slacked off on in preparation for the homecoming game, and had only stopped after she refused to leave the boy's locker room until he agreed.

That had been fun to explain to his coach. (_No, Coach, that was not my girlfriend. Yes, Coach, I am sure. Yes, Coach, I am aware it is sad to be so whipped by a girl who isn't even your girlfriend._)

This was his chance to fix things with Riley, she had said with her hands crossed over her chest and ignoring the astonished looks his teammates were giving her as she stood boldly in front of a surprised, shirtless Lucas who could feel himself getting hotter by the second. He just nodded his head as he pushed her towards the door, not liking the raised eyebrows and suggestive smirks his teammates were giving the blonde girl.

Now he was here, edged on by his blonde friend to ask the girlfriend he had held a conversation with in two weeks to dance with him and feeling like he would rather be anywhere but there with her.

If you were to ask Lucas why exactly they were fighting, he would not be able to tell you. Since high school had started, it had been the little things that seemed to bother him about the girl he had dated for almost two years. She hadn't changed, and as far as he knew he hadn't either. But the nativity and insecurities she held that he had once found charming slowly began to grate on his nerves, and as high school made them both busier and busier they began seeing each other less and less. And even when they were together, they did not talk. It had been gradual, and only when Maya had stormed up to him to demand what he had done to make her best friend so gloomy had he realized he and Riley had not gone out on an official date in over three weeks and that the only time they seemed to be able to hold a conversation was when they were in a group setting.

"_Look, you and Riley are the new Cory and Topanga,"_ she had said, a slight roll of her eyes that made Lucas smile despite himself. After getting him to agree to ask Riley to go to the dance with him, Maya had made use of his only free afternoon during the week to give mandatory relationship advice. Lucas had pointed out to Maya that her track record with relationships was not one that necessarily should be followed (Thank goodness she had gotten out of her faze of changing boyfriends like socks and had remained single for the time being; he was very happy about that, though he wasn't exactly sure why), but Maya had waved away this point and dragged him to speak with her at Svorski's bakery. She took a quick gulp of coffee that made him wince (he couldn't stand the stuff) before continuing.

"_You're going to go through rough patches, but in the end you are still New York's golden couple. One romantic dance in the artificial lighting and poorly hidden smell of sweaty gym socks and axe deodorant and you two will be back on your little love cloud, leaving us mere mortals to choke on the sickly sweet taste of your love dust."_

Lucas nodded and agreed with her, even asking for a few suggestions not because he was entirely convinced her plan would work but because he knew if he kept her distracted he could pay for the tab before she could notice.

Riley's brown eyes shifted uncomfortably back and forth, looking at anywhere but his face as they continued to slow dance to some nameless, mood music that teacher's seemed to deem the only appropriate song for a slow dance (and yet the teens had been allowed to grind to Ke$ha's _Timber _only minutes before). Her hair was piled on top of her head, a small silver tiara placed in the center that was offset by the chain of pearls around her neck and the long, black gloves covering her hands and arms. The dance was 50's themed, something Lucas fully held the student council responsible for (He had given up his place in grade school politics after the 8th grade). Riley, like half of the girls in attendance, had decided to dress in the iconic Holly Golightly outfit despite the movie being made in the early 60s.

"So this dance is nice," Lucas tried feebly, warily eyeing a half-finished poster with "50's Swag" written in sloppy, bold letters across a thin strip paper. The "a" and the "g" were still outlined in pencil and blank on the inside. Riley gave an absent-minded nod, but remained silent.

Before Lucas could come up with another boring conversation topic to try and stop the awkwardness practically festering between them, Farkle appeared next to them in all his 5'3 glory. He was dressed as Elvis in tight pants, sunglasses, and a wig that brought his height to a staggering 5'7. With an embellished bow he extended his hand out in Riley's direction.

"Sorry Lucas, but I believe it is my turn to dance with the lady."

Riley looked at Lucas as if afraid to accept, and Lucas gladly released his hands from her waist with an encouraging nod. Riley smiled and took Farkle's hand, being whisked away to do a rendition of the tango with her friend. Lucas turned to sit on the sidelines, but he felt somebody pull him towards them before he could leave his spot on the dance floor.

"Not so fast, cowboy."

Maya Hart had appeared before him, a cool smile dancing across her painted red lips despite the exasperated look shimmering behind her blue eyes. Her blond hair was pulled up behind her head with a clip, a red bandana tied around it. She wore a denim shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a sinfully short yellow skirt that Lucas had been trying to avoid looking at since she arrived at his apartment with Riley and Farkle one hour ago.

"_Rosie the Riveter?"_ he had asked raising a brow at her. "_Wasn't she popular in the 40s?"_

Maya shrugged at him. "_Encouraging women to join the workforce? I say that is cool in any decade."_

The blonde slipped her arms around his neck easily; able to reach without too much trouble with the help of the four-inch heels he suspected she stole from her mom's closet. Lucas remembered her having a conversation with him back in middle school about hiding her legs because they looked like two glow-sticks. Ever since high school had started Lucas noticed she did not seem to mind showing her legs as much, no longer wearing tights or leggings to cover the creamy skin. This was something he did not think he minded until he realized he was not the only boy at their school to notice Maya's change in apparel.

Maya started to sway and Lucas put his hands on her waist, feeling lighter in her presence even though, by the look she was giving him, he was in trouble. His expression must have shown this, because she just shook her head before snorting out a laugh.

"Smooth, James Dean," she said, shaking her head so a few runaway strands of blonde curls bounced beside her chin. She looked up at him, cocking her head to the side and giving him a pointed look. "Could you have made that any more awkward?" Then after a pause, and a glance at that on his head she said. " And, really, you had to go as Jett Rink?"

Lucas moved released his right hand from her waist for a second to tip the cowboy hat on the top of his head towards her with a side smirk, glad she noticed the 50's icon he chose to portray. He had worn some type of homage to his western roots to every school dance they had attended since the 7th grade; it never failed to cause the blonde to throw an eye roll and witty statement his way. But the moment he took his hand away from the rim of his hat his smirk dropped and he let out a heavy sigh.

"I'm sorry, okay? He said. "I guess odor a la gym and dim lighting weren't enough." He glanced back over at Riley and Farkle. The brunette was smiling and not in the tight, awkward way she had a few moments ago when he had been her dance partner. He knew he should feel something (guilt, jealousy, sadness), but knowing she was having more fun with Farkle then him didn't bother him in the slightest. He looked back at Maya. "Why did you stop us?"

"You were crashing and burning," Maya said with a shrug. "Someone had to stop you before you lived a little too fast and died too young." At the look on Lucas' face, she patted him on the back like a coach on the field. "Don't worry champ, it'll work out. The universe wants you guys together and even you can't screw that up."

Lucas frowned at her. Maya seemed determine to believe that he and Riley were some type of soul mates. When they were at the cafe and Lucas had just hinted at the idea that maybe he and the brunette should take a break, something that wouldn't really change how they were acting around one another currently, Maya had told him to shut his Texas trap before he got an idea in head that he would regret. He wanted to ask her why she was so damn determined to keep he and Riley together, but before he could the music changed and she was out of his arms and twisting her hips to the beat.

"Come on strait-laced, don't tell me you're afraid of a little Gaga."

Having no choice, Lucas let out a laugh, smiled and tried to keep up with the short blonde.

* * *

><p>Maya rubbed the sole of her foot as Lucas jiggled the key in the lock of her apartment door. She had taken the strappy heels Riley had told her to wear the moment she had plopped into Lucas' 2006 minivan (something she had teased him about endlessly until he pointed out that at least he had a car and a license unlike a certain driver's-ed flunky, but who needed a car in New York anyways?).<p>

"If I wasn't so short I would never wear these torture devices," she said, eyeing the red skin with disdain. Lucas chuckled beside her, and Maya continued to stare determinately at her feet, trying not to think how cute he looked now that he took the cowboy hat off of his head just as she had tried not to notice how cute he looked with the hat on.

She had been planning to go home alone after the dance, to take the subway back and plop straight onto her bed and allow herself a few hours of sleep before having to get up to go to the day's art competition she had been scheduled to attend. When she had told this Riley and Mr. Matthews after turning down her best friend's offer to sleep over for the night (Maya would have to have gotten up too early and would have ended up walking home alone in the dark anyways) the two immediately protested. Mr. Matthews offered to take her home even though it was well out of his way to do so, and Maya was about to remind him of this when Lucas stepped up from behind her and offered to drive her home. With the homecoming game done, he didn't have anything to do with his Sunday morning and didn't mind losing a few more hours of sleep to ensure his friend returned home safely.

Maya tried to ignore the frown that had appeared on Riley's face a few seconds before the brunette pushed it away and nodded saying that Lucas taking Maya home was a great idea. She also tried to ignore the boyish smile that Lucas gave her when she had no choice but to accept his offer.

"You really didn't have to walk me to the door," Maya said as she entered her apartment. One look around and Maya could tell it was still empty, just as it had been for the last three days except for herself. She had gotten a text from her mother the day before letting her daughter know that she was alive and fine, a gesture that was impressive for the absentee parent who usually came and went as she pleased without notice. Maya was never sure where she went, but she never bothered to ask. It would probably only disappoint her. Lucas followed her inside.

"Of course I did," he said just as he always did since he had started walking her home in the eighth grade. He gave her a sideways grin. "If I hadn't come up who would hold these for you?" he lifted his hand showing the red heels clutched in his grip.

Maya rolled her eyes as she turned on the kitchen light, pulling out the old, banged tea kettle and placing it on top of the stove. She knew the moment that Lucas had volunteered to take her home that he would be staying the night. He had already taken off his boots and sat on her couch after carefully placing the heels off to the side. She would make tea for both of them, just as she did every time they had their little sleepovers.

Ever since the middle of eighth grade when Maya's grandmother passed away, Lucas had started staying over at the Hart's apartment a few nights out of the week to the point where he had a drawer in Maya's room of spare clothing. It had happened after Maya had called him at three in the morning in a moment of weakness, crying that it was too fucking quiet, and it was now always going to be too fucking quiet because her Grammy was dead and her mother was only half a mother who couldn't be bothered to check on her daughter's safety even though she was alone (so fucking _alone_) on the side of New York City your parent's didn't even bother to warn you about because one look told you to stay away. Lucas had taken the subway over immediately, might or might not keeping the small Taser his father had given him for his thirteenth birthday (apparently New York didn't believe in guns, so this was the next best thing according to the rancher). Since then he had stayed at Maya's house overnight at least once a week.

Neither of them had bothered to tell Riley about the arrangement, though they both felt guilty for withholding the information. It wasn't like they were doing anything wrong. They would just sit and talk most of the night, watching old black and white movies and sipping insane amounts of tea (Lucas couldn't stomach coffee, a fact that Maya teased him endlessly about every time he came over) and ultimately falling asleep at some ungodly hour. Lucas always slept on the couch, except the one time he didn't and May Hart had walked in after a week of being absent to find him on Maya's bed with the girl's face buried deep in his chest and his hand's tangled in her hair. The two had woken up to the screaming voice of the older Hart women, yelling that she was not going to let her daughter get pregnant in high school thanks to some pretty boy jock. Needless to say the two never spoke of the incident, but Lucas always managed to find himself on the couch before falling asleep.

Maya brought over two mugs of chamomile tea, one with extra sugar one with no sugar, and passed the sweeter of the two to Lucas who took it gratefully. While she was busy making tea he had turned on the television, and Maya let out a rueful laugh as she noticed the black and white image of James Dean in a cowboy hat. How he had found _Giant on_ the limited number of channels her dinky television had to offer was beyond her, but judging by the not-so-innocent look in his green eyes, Lucas was pleased with himself.

They watched the film in silence, Maya careful to keep her head from finding his shoulder as it usually did just as she was careful to keep her thigh from touching his. Lucas did not seem to have these same goals, because every so often Maya would look down to see he had managed to get closer to her, and she would readjust herself until she couldn't feel the warmth of his body heat touching her anymore. After Lucas had finished his cup of tea, it always took him forever to finish while Maya was able to finish hers in one big gulp; he clicked his tongue and spoke.

"So what time do we have to get up tomorrow?" He glanced over at the antique cuckoo clock that only Grammy Hart had ever like but neither Maya or her mother had the heart to take down and saw that is was already two in the morning. "Or I guess a more accurate question would be what time do we have to get up today?"

Maya took his mug from the coffee table and got up to put them away. "_We_ do not have to get up at any time tomorrow," she said giving him a pointed look. "_I _have to get up by six to get my painting to the art show by 8."

"Oh yeah?" Lucas said following her as she put the mugs in the sink, Maya tried to ignore his breath on her cheek as she stared determinately at her hands and she scrubbed the bottom of the ceramic glasses with a paper towel. "And how were you planning on doing that?"

"Taking the subway like I did before you got your fancy cowboy mobile."

Lucas chuckled and grabbed the mug she was working to clean out of her hand and rinsing it once more after Maya had fruitlessly scrubbed a blob of tea leaves determined to stay in the corner at the bottom. "Because that is a great idea. Isn't the canvas bigger than you?"

Maya didn't answer as she crossed her arms over her chest, sticking her tongue out at him as he showed her the perfectly clean bottom of the mug with a side smirk on his face. She grabbed it from him and went up on her tiptoes to put it in the cabinet above her.

"Can I get a look at this painting you've been working on oh-so-secretly?"

The blonde girl paused as she put up the second mug, staring at the cabinet for a bit longer than necessary as she pushed the only other coffee mug in her house (the Hart's owned a total of three; one for Maya, one for May and one for Grammy. Only two were used now. One for Maya and one for Lucas).

"You'll see it tomorrow like everyone else, " Maya said into the cabinet, still on her toes looking into everything and nothing in the cabinet all at the same time.

"Awe come on Hart," he said closing the cabinet doors so Maya had no choice but to look back at him. There was a teasing note in his voice, but something else in his eyes that made Maya want to both get him as far away from her house as possible and melt into his embrace at the same time. "After making me dance to both Beyonce and Katy Perry it is the least you could do."

But Maya could barely hear him. Her head was buzzing as she looked at his green eyes, and she found herself nodding without realizing it before she finally turned away.

* * *

><p>Maya's room had been transformed over the last two years. The small space had been divided in half. On the far side where her bed remained she had shoved all of her personal items to it looked as if she had been playing Tetris with her furniture, trying to fit as many pieces against one wall as she could without breaking anything. The other side of the room had been made into a makeshift art studio, with clear wrapping covering the carpeted floor, and paint supplies scattered all around so you had to look closely where you stepped to avoid being impaled in the floor with a brush handle or ending up with paint on your toes.<p>

She loved it.

It was chaos and disorder and the place she could go wherever the world outside became too neat and her thoughts too clear. She could swirl the paints together and throw them on a canvas and create and just _be _without having to worry about a half-present mother a dead grandmother or a stupid little crush on her best friend's boyfriend. The same boy who had happened to help her move her furniture away and come up with the idea for an art room in the first place.

Lucas entered the room, glancing at the floor as he stepped over a squeeze tube of paint the had somehow landed right in front of the door. Maya didn't have to look down. Somehow she knew where everything was just as if it was neatly organized by color and size in a proper drawer. Lucas followed her, his eyes curiously looking at the large covered canvas on the second-hand easel he had helped fix up after they had found it discarded on the streets.

She stopped in front of the painting, playing with the corner of the sheet she had draped over it, stalling for time. This painting had been a project she had started since the summer before school had even started and, like Lucas was very well aware of, Maya had yet to show it to a single person.

"_It just isn't ready yet," _Maya had told Lucas when he patiently asked her why she always kept the canvas covered whenever he came over. Lucas, unlike Riley and Farkle who continued to pester her about it every time they stopped by, seemed to understand what she was really trying to say with the statement. She wasn't ready yet.

"_When the time is right,"_ Maya would add, feeling more unnerved by his silence acceptance than her other friend's protests.

"_When the time is right," _he would repeat, giving her a small smile and tip of the hat.

Maya could feel Lucas' presence behind her; she looked over her shoulder at him for a split second, trying to read his expression but failing. That was the thing with Lucas, Maya was either able to understand what he was thinking perfectly or not at all. Some days his thoughts were as clear to her as her own blue eyes and others they were just as foggy as the green surrounding his pupils. Recently it had become a lot harder to read him, or perhaps it had become a little too easy to see what he was thinking when she caught him staring at her long, blonde curls across the hall, or managing to find a way to sit next to her whenever they were together, and how a smile would light up on his face whenever she said 'sup cowboy in her mocking, country drawl.

Her fingers clutched the sheet edge, yanking it with a flourish before the city girl could allow her mind to be persuaded otherwise. Maya watched the sheet as it fell to the ground by her feet, not sure if she was more afraid to see Lucas hate her painting or like it. Behind her she could hear Lucas' breath hitch, and she bit the corner of her lip self-consciously as she looked back up at her work.

Not a speck of white from the original canvas was showing through the vibrantly painted piece, Maya had made sure of that in a frenzy of paint and brush-strokes. It was an image of what seemed to be a new york street, tall buildings crowded next to one another surrounding a narrow road. There was only one car in the picture, parked off to the side with it's lights turned off, looking all but abandoned in it's lonesomeness. The colors of the city were off, not dark grays and blues but instead light hues with a pastel sky and white clouds floating just above the tops of towers. It lightened the normally murkily-depicted New York street and gave it the warmth of a sunrise so uncommon in an urban setting. But the most interesting choice of the painting, and the center focus of the piece were the horses galloping through the streets. Palominos and American paints raced beside one another, their thick mainly seeming to flow behind them. The way their movements were drawn made them look as if they could be running through an open pasture, turning to race towards the nearest brook. They were out of place in the city setting and yet the way the colors and lines melded together made them look right at home.

"Where did you come up with this?" Lucas asked her breathlessly, as if he had been riding on the back of the horses in the picture and was too windswept to speak. He came up next to her, staring at the picture in awe. "I thought you said you have never seen a horse before."

Maya stopped herself from blushing, hating herself for feeling warm at the adoring look he was giving her painting.

"I've seen pictures," she said, keeping her voice casual and steady. "And you also happen to be pretty good at telling stories your time on the ranch."

And then Lucas had turned to her, and he looked at her face the same way he had been staring at the painting just seconds before. She felt trapped in his stare, green eyes locked on her own blue ones as he came closer and Maya couldn't move or breathe or think as he reached over by her ear to wrap of loose strand of blonde hair around his fingers, not breaking eye contact with her, his voice dropping and taking on a tone she had never heard come from his mouth.

"That's amazing," he said, leaving Maya to only nod numbly, feeling as if he was no longer talking about the picture.

He was so close to her, so fucking close a sheet of paper perhaps the only thing that would be able to fit between them as he continued to stare down at her face, her breathing heavy. Maya could count the lashes surrounding his eyes just as well as she could smell the remnants of his cologne. And then he was leaning down to her, and in a second their lips would be touching and he would be kissing her.

But then Maya looked away and put a hand to his chest to push him away, because she was Maya Hart and he was Lucas Friar. He was dating her best friend, the friend that she had pinky promised at the age of six to never betray. The friend who had been there for her long before light green eyes and crooked smiles. Maya knew what happened to girls who kissed their best friends boyfriends. They ended up working late night shifts with pancake syrup on their arms and tobacco on their tongue, with their friends long gone and an ex boyfriend who left the moment they screwed up. Maya had made another promise when she was six, this one to herself, that she would not become one of those girls.

Not even for Lucas Friar.

He didn't fight her, but Maya could feel him continue to stare at her as she looked down at the ground. "I think it is time for bed."

She started to move away from him, refusing to look back in his eyes because she was afraid she would change her mind, afraid she would turn around and stand on her tip toes and kiss him senselessly just as she had imagined doing since the eighth grade. She felt him grab her hand, squeezing it gently. Maya tugged but he wouldn't let go so she let out a low sigh and closed her eyes.

"Lucas…"

"Why?" he asked, and Maya could imagine him with his head cocked to the side, other hand shoved in his jean pocket as he tried to read her face. She tried to not hear the hurt that had crept into his guarded voice and to picture him with something other than a frown dancing across his lips.

"It's not right," she said, still not looking at him. He was silent for a while before Maya was forced to turn around. He was still staring at her, gripping her hand and watching her as if he turned away she would be gone. Then he slowly started to nod.

"No, it isn't," he said his voice a mixture of regret and the same low tone it had been just before he had begun to lean down. He let go of her hand, and Maya pulled it back to her side as if it had been burned. He didn't seem to notice as he continued to stare at her face. Maya turned around and he headed towards the door. "Good-night, Maya."

Maya nodded stiffly, letting out a grunt in response. Lucas paused in the doorframe.

"When the time is right, then" he said, and Maya allowed herself to glance up at him one last time. He gave her a small tip of his imaginary hat and then was out of the room, leaving his promise to hang before her like one of her covered paintings.

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><p>Thank you guys so much for reading! Drop a review if you have some time to spare. :)<p> 


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